One More Night
by LyraLynch
Summary: Juice never expected to run into his hot one night stand again. She never expected to accidentally hook up with a Son. But she has a secret that will tear apart Gemma's past and Juice's heart in the process. Juice/OC
1. Prologue

**A/N** : don't own don't sue

The lyrics at the beginning are from 'One More Night' by Maroon 5

Set after Season One, before Abel is kidnapped and Gemma is raped and Jax turns into a jerk and the whole club hates each other. Generally back when the show had fun and all the coolest characters were still alive. Because I can, it's called artistic license.

 **One More Night**

 **Prologue**

You and I go hard at each other like we're going to war  
You and I go rough, we keep throwing things and slamming the door  
You and I get so damn dysfunctional, we start keeping score  
You and I get sick, and I know that we can't do this no more  
But baby there you go again, there you go again, making me love you  
Yeah, I stopped using my head, using my head let it all go  
Got you stuck on my body, on my body like a tattoo  
And now I'm feeling stupid, feeling stupid crawling back to you  
So I cross my heart and I hope to die  
That I'll only stay with you one more night  
And I know I said it a million times  
But I'll only stay with you one more night  
Try to tell you no, but my body keeps on telling you yes  
Try to tell you stop, but your lipstick got me so out of breath  
I'll be waking up in the morning, probably hating myself  
And I'll be waking up feeling satisfied, but guilty as hell  
But baby there you go again, there you go again, making me love you  
Yeah I stopped using my head, using my head let it all go  
Got you stuck on my body, on my body like a tattoo  
And now I'm feeling stupid, feeling stupid crawling back to you  
So I cross my heart and I hope to die  
That I'll only stay with you one more night  
And I know I said it a million times  
But I'll only stay with you one more night  
Yeah baby give me one more night

Juice peered around the dimly lit bar doubtfully. He'd never been in The Bad Penny before, the lack of bikes out front quite clearly indicated it wasn't his kind of place. But tonight he just wanted a solitary drink so he could drown his sorrows and this was about as far from somewhere the Sons would go as you could get. He moved out of the doorway, his boots clunking loudly on the polished wooden floor and drawing curious glances. He slid onto a plush leather stool at the bar. The pretty blonde behind the bar fluttered her eyelashes and sashayed over to him.

"What can I get you?" She purred.

He ordered a beer without biting on the invitation to flirt. She was pretty enough, her white silky blouse swelling pleasantly, but he wasn't in the mood. The club was on shaky footing, the tension between Jax and Clay getting everybody's backs up. Juice downed his shot and circled his hands around his beer bottle. The back of the bar was mirrored, reflecting the room beyond his shoulders. He could see two suits sitting at a table in the corner congratulating each other on something. The bar wasn't exactly thrumming with activity; there was a group of older women with a tableful of colourful cocktails, a single balding man who'd clearly been nursing a glass of whiskey for so long the ice cubes had melted and a girl a few stools down. He blinked and took a closer look. She looked about as cheerful as he felt.

"You want another, sweetheart?" The blonde asked her in a low gentle voice that smacked a little of sympathy.

"Sure. I'm drowning my sorrows right?"

The blonde clucked her tongue and smiled, pouring out her drink.

"You good, handsome?" She smiled coyly at Juice on her way back down the bar.

He nodded and she moved on. He glanced down the bar again. She had a sheet of shiny red hair and pale slender limbs. He leaned back a little. She was wearing a little black suede dress, tight in all the most interesting places and baring most of her back. She had ridiculously long legs encased in sheer black tights, propped on the metal bar of the stool and crossed at delicate ankles taking the pressure off her sky high patent heels. He turned back to his beer. He was pretty sure he'd never seen her before because she was way out of his league. He necked his beer moodily. The barmaid reappeared, leaning over the bar until he glimpsed bronzed cleavage.

"Another?" She purred throatily.

He nodded. She handed him his beer, brushing his fingers with her own. He was deciding whether or not to return the pressure when the phone rang under the bar and she scowled. She suddenly lost a lot of her prettiness and didn't look nearly as young as he'd first suspected.

"The Bad Penny?" She trilled down the phone. She frowned, half tilting her body. "Yeah, she's here." Her gaze flickered down the bar. "I don't know." She pursed her lips, one finger coiling around the phone wire. "I don't think-" She gave a little giggle, rolling her eyes. "Alright. Hey kid! Phone for you."

Both the barmaid and Juice turned towards the redhead. She looked at the phone with big dark blue eyes, the red lipstick making her frown more prominent. After a moment she slid down from the stool, her heels clicking rhythmically on the floor as she moved towards them. She leant over the bar to take the phone, scooping her hair over one shoulder and tucking the phone against her bared ear.

"Hello?" He could see a delicate silver chain glittering around her long slender neck, the curve of her freckled cheekbone, the sweep of her long feathery lashes. "No, you have the wrong person." Her cheeks flushed pink and her eyes narrowed. "No, I'm completely serious."

She handed the phone back to the stunned barmaid, pulling herself up onto the stool one down from Juice. The phone rang again and the barmaid hesitated, holding the receiver to her ear and peering at the redhead hesitantly. She shook her head a fraction and the barmaid turned away.

"No, she's not here."

She put the phone down and hurried off down the bar. The redhead sighed.

"You look about as cheerful as I feel." Juice blurted without thinking. She jumped. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-" He broke off, fiddling with the bottle in his hands awkwardly. "Can I get you a drink?"

She eyed him contemplatively, from the boots to the jeans and t-shirt quite conspicuous in the surroundings. He tensed, waiting for the inevitable rejection. Without his cut he just looked like another try-hard punk.

"Sure, why not?"

He blinked in surprise, then signalled the barmaid before she could change her mind.

"Another beer and…?"

He looked sideways at the redhead pointedly. The barmaid's mouth made a disappointed little 'o'. She pushed the drinks at them with more force than was strictly necessary and the redhead laughed as she flounced off.

"You just broke Tandy's heart." She muttered, sipping her drink.

Juice glanced after the barmaid uncertainly.

"Don't worry, she never goes home alone. Ever." She swirled her olive around in her drink. "So this isn't your usual haunt, is it?"

Juice shook his head.

"That obvious?"

She laughed, running a hand back through her hair.

"Well you don't look like you have a stick up your ass." She glanced up at the mirror, eyeing the suits.

"You look too pretty for this place." Juice hazarded, feeling 'pretty' was a better thing to say than 'rich'.

Her cheeks went even pinker but she lifted her eyebrows in amusement.

"Aren't you sweet?" She sipped her vodka. "I had a date." She cocked her head thoughtfully. "Well actually it was more of a last date. I needed to let some creep know what I thought of him in person."

Juice whistled, running a hot look over the suede dress.

"If a woman ever cut me loose looking like that-" He broke off, forcing his eyes back to her face. "Sorry."

She shrugged one pale freckled shoulder.

"That was the point."

She looked up at him from under her lashes and Juice nearly choked on his drink. There was absolutely no way any guy would ever be stupid enough to let anything looking like _that_ slip through his fingers. She gulped down the rest of her drink and waved at Tandy for another.

"Admittedly I didn't think I'd feel this lousy afterwards." She sighed, running her fingertip around the rim of her empty glass.

"The guy's a dumbass." Juice stated vehemently.

"Yeah. I know." She flashed him a smile and he felt heat pooling in his lap.

"So what brings you here drowning your sorrows?" She cocked her head. "Girlfriend pregnant?"

He nearly knocked his bottle over he was so flustered and she smiled.

"No! I mean… no girlfriend."

She pushed her hair back from her face.

"Seriously, though." She turned towards him more fully, her hair rippling over her bare shoulder. "You're not here for the cocktails."

He grinned.

"Just had a rough few weeks." He shrugged evasively.

"How rough?"

He realised she'd leaned in a little closer. He could smell her expensive perfume, so completely different to the rather tacky, tasteless clouds that hovered around the girls at the clubhouse. Her hair brushed against his hand splayed on the bar, soft and silky.

"Pretty shitty." His voice came out a little hoarser than he intended.

Her red lips curled and he swallowed. The phone beneath the bar rang again and her eyes strayed to the edge of the shining wood, her lower lip sucked in under her teeth.

"He knows you're here?" Juice asked and she shrugged.

"He owns this place. I've only been in town a few weeks, this is where we met."

"Figured I'd never seen you before."

She smiled, holding out a slender hand. The dark polish on her nails caught the light, an expensive looking ring glinting in the lights from the bar. Her hand was soft and gentle in his grip, his rings pressing into her flesh. She lifted her eyebrows, a dimple flickering in her cheek as she half-smiled again. He realised he still had hold of her hand and he hurriedly let go.

"So. New around here, huh."

Considering her British accent stood out like a slap in the face around here, she laughed. He swallowed some of his beer for something to do. She waved at Tandy who fetched them another round, looking a lot less amiable now it was clear she wasn't going to have a story to tell her friends about taking a Son home for the night.

"Yeah. I'm a freelance artist. Just passing through town. Family business." She slid the olive from her cocktail stick and chewed it thoughtfully. "I wanted something peaceful."

Juice contemplated filling her in on the various gun fights, drive bys, meth lab explosions and beat downs that generally formed the soundtrack of his life, but he didn't think she'd appreciate it. She sipped her vodka and re-crossed her legs. Juice tried valiantly not to gawp but it was a very interesting skirt length.

"Well, I'm going to call it a night." She tossed a few bills onto the bar and grabbed her purse. "It would probably be gentlemanly of you to walk me home." She murmured, leaning in towards him until her scent and body heat filled his head.

Juice scrambled in his pocket for money, almost tripping off the stool in his hurry to follow her.

* * *

"So this is where you live?" Juice observed, as he followed her down the hallway.

He'd been past the hotel a few times but he'd never taken much notice, it was on the edge of town in the so-called good area. The part of town rich people rented apartments in when they wanted the small-town experience without actually experiencing any of the inconvenient small-town behaviour. She came to a halt outside a door at the end of the hallway.

"This is where I live." She confirmed, leaning back against the door and peering up at him coyly.

She reached out, hooking her finger into the collar of his t-shirt and tugging him towards her.

"I'd offer you a nightcap, but I drank my place dry before I headed out." She cocked her head. "Want to come in, anyway?"

Juice swallowed against his suddenly dry throat. He could handle his own with crow eaters and the girls from Cara Cara, they pretty much took the lead and made it blatantly obvious they only wanted him for a particular part of his anatomy, but he'd never even spoken to a girl like this before. She turned to unlock her door, her back brushing lightly against his chest. His hands lifted of their own accord, cradling her hips. She pressed back against him. He pushed one ringed hand into her hair, the silky strands gliding through his fingers. He was rapidly becoming completely obsessed with her hair.

"Are you sure-"

He wasn't entirely sure why he was shooting himself in the foot by asking, but he was pretty certain if it got any further and then she backed out he'd implode into a fiery ball of lust on her doorstep. She pressed backwards until he could feel every inch of her warm body flush against him. She tilted her head back against his shoulder, her green-blue eyes a glittering glimmer beneath her lowered sooty lashes. The door clicked and she pushed it open, Juice almost tripping over her at the sudden movement.

Juice followed her inside, the plush carpeting swallowing up his boots. She slipped off her heels without pausing. Juice hesitated, leaning back against the closed door. She peeked back over her shoulder, the moonlight seeping through the big open picture window reflecting off her hair like a beacon. Seeing his hesitation, she moved back towards him.

"You're adorable."

Juice turned pink, mesmerised by the hypnotic swing of her hips and the halo of moonlight bouncing off her hair. She folded herself into his arms, her lips on fire against his. Juice was pretty glad the door was holding him up because he didn't think he'd be managing it by himself. Her suede dress was soft through his thin t-shirt, her body heat scorching through him. His fingers stumbled across the hidden zipper on one side of her dress and he fumbled for it, forgetting his mouth was busy as he worked it until she giggled.

"Here."

She drew down the zip for him, then guided his fingers to the hidden snap holding her dress together. He felt ridiculously uncoordinated but she didn't laugh at him, on the contrary her lips were whispering along his neck making it even harder to concentrate. He loosened the snap and her dress puddled to the floor with a whisper of crumpled velvet. He swallowed. He'd seen every kind of lingerie imaginable at Cara Cara and what she had on wasn't the most exotic he'd ever seen but it was definitely something. She stood calmly, watching him drinking her in. Her black lacy slip clung to every inch of her, skimming the tops of the stockings he'd originally taken to be tights and revealing a tantalising strip of the creamy white flesh of each thigh.

"My turn."

She shot him a smirk that made his skin burn, running her delicate little hands all over his chest, hooking his t-shirt up. She blew little puffs of warm moist air along his bared chest as she worked his shirt up. She used his shirt as leverage to drag him across the room, keeping a step ahead of him with a giggle every time he reached for her again. He had a vague impression of a large room dominated by another large picture window before she pushed him onto the end of a huge bed. As she unlaced his heavy boots he buried his nose into her hair, inhaling the sharp citrusy scent of her shampoo and a softer coconut perfume overlaid with something floral. It was so decidedly feminine, it made his mouth water. The girls at the clubhouse never smelt like that, they smelt harsh and brittle and garish. They were all grabby hands and porn star groans and tricks no innocent girl would ever know. She alternated between gentle and rough; sinking her teeth into his shoulders and arms and smoothing the red marks with her lips and tongue, carefully tuning every inch of his skin until his entire body was thrumming.

He pulled her slip over her head and tossed it over his shoulder, unrolling each of her stockings slowly and trailing kisses and the briefest scrape of his teeth in their wake. She had ink on the inside of her thigh but it was too dark for him to decipher as he nibbled on her inner knee. He usually pretty much just did what he had to but the booze had made him brave and his brain was rapidly losing the battle for bloodflow. She gave a breathy little giggle when he reached her black lacy underwear. He hesitated, worrying he might rip the delicate scraps of lace, until she wriggled impatiently beneath him. He had a slender gold chain around his neck and she used it to drag his lips towards hers, her body soft and pliant beneath his. She dug her nails into his arms and drew them down his back until he grunted halfway between pleasure and pain. The scrap of silk was discarded and he eased himself down on top of her. The alcohol was wearing off a little and the minor worries he'd hidden that he may be unable to perform vanished as the seeping heat against him made him swell painfully. Her mouth was warm and wicked against his, tongue lapping lazily as her hands stroked the hard planes of his chest and stomach. He traced his fingertips over her bare skin, feeling the muscles in her legs tense in surprise as he slipped inside. Her exhale was a soft laugh against his mouth as she grew accustomed to him inside her, her slender legs coiling around his back. Her hips lifted and he responded immediately, finding a rhythm that definitely worked for them both.

Trying to last longer, he found his mind focusing on other things. Her body rippled fluidly beneath his and he wondered if she was a dancer. Her legs were long and strong wrapped around his back, her heels digging into the small of his back and helping him inch in a little deeper with each thrust. That magnificent hair was glued to her face and throat with sweat, her eyes were black and her cheeks rosy. Her eyelids fluttered and he felt her clench around him, deliciously tight as she came. With a final thrust he let himself go, the muscles in his back and butt quivering with tension. She drew him down against her, their heated foreheads touching, bodies glued together with sweat.

* * *

It took a very long, very hazy, moment for Juice to figure out the irritating buzzing noise was his phone vibrating in his discarded jeans somewhere. He levered himself up into a sitting position, squinting around the dimly lit room. He turned the other way, a little hesitantly. She was coiled on her side, the thin white sheet outlining every inch of her naked body. He swallowed. The buzzing started up again and he scrambled to the end of the big bed. His jeans lay in a pile with her velvet dress half under the big wooden frame. He fumbled to untangle them, grabbing his phone before it could ring out again.

It was Half-Sack, frantic to reach him after Clay had threatened him with severe painful mutilation of his remaining genitalia if he didn't have Juice front and centre within the hour. Juice calmed him down as best he could and hung up.

"That sounded important."

He jumped at the coolly amused voice sounding behind him. He fidgeted with the now silent phone in his lap uncomfortably. Usually these awkward morning after encounters ended when he ordered the crow-eater out of his room. He wasn't used to it being the other way around. She seemed in no hurry to get rid of him, though. She was lying there looking at him with those huge liquid blue eyes radiating amusement, last night's mascara smudged under her lashes and her lips slightly bruised from their activities.

"Sounds like you're expected somewhere."

He shrugged one naked shoulder. She pushed herself up into a sitting position, tucking the sheet around herself and wrapping her arms around her drawn up knees.

"It's okay, you know." She cocked her head until that long wave of fiery red hair tumbled over her bare shoulder. "I invited you back here, I didn't exactly expect you to make me pancakes in the morning or anything."

He grinned, his embarrassment easing a little bit. His phone vibrated again and he leapt out of the bed.

"Shower's through there." She pointed at a half open door at the back of the room.

He eyed the distance from the bed to the door, then the sheet curled around her body. She laughed, leaning over the edge of the bed. She re-emerged with a white robe, handing it to him with a grin and averting her gaze. Juice shrugged into the robe, mercifully it was a hotel one-size-fits-all, and scuttled into the bathroom.

She was gone when he emerged a few minutes later and he dragged on his clothes. He had three more missed calls from Half-Sack. She was padding around the adjoining room in an over-sized black t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts. She'd tied her hair back in a messy knot and the t-shirt was drooping off one slender shoulder.

"There's coffee." She indicated the coffee pot on the breakfast tray but he shook his head. "Oh, your phone call."

Juice just stood there looking at her, and she just leant back against the window and looked back at him. He couldn't think what to say, thank you seemed a little bit creepy and nice to meet you was just so completely inappropriate. The silence was stretching out and her lips were curling behind her coffee cup with every passing second. He was saved from completely humiliating himself by his phone ringing again.

"I er… I can let myself out." He scrubbed his hand back over his head self-consciously.

"See you around." She murmured, looking at him from under her lashes through the steam coiling up from her coffee cup.

He glanced back and she smiled.

It was only when he made it back to the closed Bad Penny and his bike that he realised he didn't even know her name.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N** : don't own don't sue

The lyrics at the beginning are from 'One More Night' by Maroon 5

Set after Season One, before Abel is kidnapped and Gemma is raped and Jax turns into a jerk and the whole club hates each other. Generally back when the show had fun and all the coolest characters were still alive. Because I can, it's called artistic license.

 **One More Night**

 **Chapter One**

You and I go hard at each other like we're going to war  
You and I go rough, we keep throwing things and slamming the door  
You and I get so damn dysfunctional, we start keeping score  
You and I get sick, and I know that we can't do this no more  
But baby there you go again, there you go again, making me love you  
Yeah, I stopped using my head, using my head let it all go  
Got you stuck on my body, on my body like a tattoo  
And now I'm feeling stupid, feeling stupid crawling back to you  
So I cross my heart and I hope to die  
That I'll only stay with you one more night  
And I know I said it a million times  
But I'll only stay with you one more night  
Try to tell you no, but my body keeps on telling you yes  
Try to tell you stop, but your lipstick got me so out of breath  
I'll be waking up in the morning, probably hating myself  
And I'll be waking up feeling satisfied, but guilty as hell  
But baby there you go again, there you go again, making me love you  
Yeah I stopped using my head, using my head let it all go  
Got you stuck on my body, on my body like a tattoo  
And now I'm feeling stupid, feeling stupid crawling back to you  
So I cross my heart and I hope to die  
That I'll only stay with you one more night  
And I know I said it a million times  
But I'll only stay with you one more night  
Yeah baby give me one more night

"What crawled up your ass?" Jax asked, lifting his eyebrows in amusement as Juice stomped around the garage irritably.

"Nothing." He muttered.

"Boy needs to get himself some." Piney diagnosed wheezily and Juice glared.

He hadn't told anyone about the girl from The Bad Penny, a pretty amazing feat in itself. He rubbed his hands over his head. It had been a week since that steamy, slightly hazy, night. Things hadn't improved much with the club and he hadn't seen that girl again at all. Not that he was trying to see her. It was just a one time thing. One hell of a one time thing. He could feel heat creeping under his collar just thinking about it.

"Hey!" He snapped back to the present at the sound of Tig's exasperated shout. "You're gonna get your ass welded to this Camry if you don't move the fuck outta the way."

Juice sidestepped quickly, not entirely putting it past Tig to do exactly as he threatened. He seriously needed to sort himself out, he couldn't concentrate worth a damn and he was jumpy as fuck.

"Who is _that_?"

Jax squinted against the sun, following Half-Sack's awestruck gaze. It only took him a moment to see what had caught the Prospect's attention. A girl, naturally. A girl in a powder blue Mustang with curves almost as impressive as hers. She was all long slender legs and pale willowy limbs rather than the bronzed top-heavy bimbos usually fluttering around the clubhouse. Her glossy red hair was pulled back in a long plait, catching the bright sunlight as she propped her head on her elbow on the side of her car. Her mirrored aviators hid her eyes but they emphasised the high freckled cheekbones and the long straight nose. Her rosy lips curved into a smile as Half-Sack talked to her. Juice stared, snapping his mouth shut with an audible clack when Jax looked at him strangely. No. Fucking. Way.

* * *

She'd pulled her car up into the lot of Teller-Morrow, queuing behind a beat up old station wagon. Her heart was pounding so hard her ribs were tingling. She glanced around nervously. The lot was teeming with guys working on cars and bikes, smoking and laughing and she tightened her grip on the steering wheel. This was a bad idea. She was going to get herself killed. The guy in the station wagon was deep in conversation with a tall bearded guy and didn't look like he was going to be moving any time soon. To give her hands something to do, she lowered the flap above the window. Her face was pale, dark rings like bruises under her lashes and her dark blue eyes were glittering feverishly. She looked like shit. She tried to rub some colour into her cheeks but her hands were trembling too much so she slipped on her shades instead.

"Can I help you, miss?"

She jumped about a foot out of her seat, blushing furiously at the tousled blond head sticking through her window. He smiled patiently at her.

"Yes!" She squeaked, pausing and clearing her throat embarrassedly. "I mean er… the engine keeps making this godawful noise and it keeps cutting out on me."

He grinned reassuringly at her and she smiled weakly back.

"Just park up over there and I'll take a look."

She nodded, manoeuvring around the station wagon and over to one side of the lot. _Excellent first impression, Frankie._ She popped the hood for the blond, listening to the shouts echoing around the lot, the laughter and the cursing. After a few moments he re-emerged, leaning against the hood and sticking his head back through the window.

"Something came loose. I think we have a new one around here. Shouldn't take too long to fix."

She nodded meekly. She knew exactly what was wrong with the engine, she'd done it herself. If they did a halfway decent job of it she'd have an hour or two to kill. The blond summarised as much, opening the door for her and indicating the office across the lot. She grabbed her bag and clambered out of the car. The burning sun hammered down on her head and she frowned, squinting painfully behind her sunglasses. Apparently she had managed to make her first visit to California right in the middle of the worst heatwave in years. Even so, the denim shorts and AC/DC crop top she'd opted for might not have been the best idea in the world. She could feel eyes combing over her, from her dusty old Converse to her messy auburn plait.

Feeling awkward and out of place, she sat down at one of the picnic benches. This was such a dumb idea. There's no way she could turn up on this woman's doorstep and drop this bombshell in her lap. She'd be lucky not to get her ass shot off if even half of the rumours about these guys were true. She fiddled with the strap of her bag nervously. She could just drop the letter on the office table and make a run for it.

"We don't bite, you know."

She jumped again. Her nerves were going to be up the wall by the time this was all over. The guy standing besides her was tall and cute, stupid haircut notwithstanding, but he had a nice smile. He swiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm, tugging a rag between his greasy hands.

"You look nervous." He explained as she squinted up at him.

"Oh. No. Just the heat." She smiled.

"Yeah, this heatwave's a bitch." He bit his lip and blinked at her worriedly, afraid he'd offended her but she only smiled.

He cocked his head and looked at her until she flushed, recognition flooding through her brain until she wanted to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment. She glanced around the lot, everyone was staring at them. They must all know.

"Juice." He stuck out his hand and she took it, smearing grease and oil all over her palm.

"Frankie." She withdrew her hand, wiping her palm on her shorts.

He was acting like he'd never met her before and she didn't know whether to be relieved or offended. Maybe he really didn't remember her. It was possible. She hadn't even known he was a Son when she'd met him, well… until she'd stripped him down and revealed his tattoos anyway. She flushed even hotter and averted her gaze.

"Hey! Get back to work." A tall guy with a mop of black curls ordered gruffly, shouldering past them.

Juice flashed her another grin and scurried back over to the car he was supposed to be working on. She frowned when her nerves came flooding back. How was she even going to open up the topic with her? You can't just walk up to a complete stranger and ask if they gave up a baby for adoption when they were fifteen.

"You need something?"

Frankie stared at her. She didn't look like any fifty-year-old woman she'd ever seen. She was standing there in leather trousers and a slashed black shirt, eyeing her challengingly from behind her shades.

"I… uh… just… my car…" She gave up, hardly able to hear a sound over the thumping of her heart in her ears.

This was her blood. Her past standing right in front of her and she had no idea who she was. Gemma followed her pointing finger to the pale blue Mustang being worked on by the Prospect.

"He said it would only take an hour." She finally managed to stutter.

Gemma eyed her contemplatively again and then turned away as someone hollered at her from the office. Frankie watched her retreating back, a riot of emotions surging through her chest. That probably hadn't gone well, but she hadn't slapped her so it could definitely have gone worse. She dug the letter out of her bag. It made her throat close up slightly, the sight of her mum's familiar handwriting. The name was both strange and yet familiar. _Gemma_. She had heard it so many times lately, but she didn't actually know anything about her. She put the envelope back in her bag and stared at the scuffed scratched surface of the table miserably. She couldn't even begin to understand how it would feel to not know your own blood parents. It was probably almost as strange as meeting your blood grandmother and her looking right past you.

* * *

She waited anxiously on the bench, half watching Juice who was apparently being ribbed something awful by the entire garage about something. She was trying not to stare at Gemma, who was leaning in the office doorway talking to a gorgeous guy with long blond hair. Jax probably. She shifted from one foot to the other awkwardly. She had no idea why she was dragging this out, all she had to do was drop that letter somewhere around here and hit the road. It wasn't her problem if Gemma didn't believe any of it.

"I think it should be alright now."

She dropped her bag with a clatter as Half-Sack materialised besides her. She smiled at him and Half-Sack beamed. She seemed a bit jumpy but she was unbelievably hot. There was something almost familiar about her that was puzzling. When she was sitting there, her chin cupped in her hand and her strange-coloured eyes staring into the distance, she had an expression on her face he was sure he recognised. She stood up and he couldn't resist flicking a glance at her long legs again. He led her towards her car, chattering cheerfully as he explained what he'd done. She nodded but he knew she wasn't really listening, she kept glancing around nervously.

"Thanks." She smiled when she realised he'd finished talking to her.

"No problem."

"Hey 'Sack. Jax wants you."

Half-Sack frowned irritably but obediently trotted off across the lot. Frankie found herself with Juice again. He could see her chewing on her bottom lip worriedly.

"Maybe I'll see you around."

She jolted slightly and stared at him, those strange midnight blue eyes taking him in.

"I hope not." She laughed, indicating the Mustang she was leaning against when he frowned. "I can't afford any more repairs."

Juice blinked and then a goofy grin spread across his face. He was pretty adorable actually.

"So do you always try to pick up stray girls wandering around the garage?"

He slid a sideways glance at her.

"Do you always try to pick up stray mechanics at random garages?" He shot back.

"Only the cute ones." She replied flatly, her mind scrabbling to figure out whether he was hinting at that night or not. "Then I chop them up and sell them on the black market."

Juice laughed, although he did glance over her shoulder. Just in case. The back seat was mostly taken up by a pretty huge basset hound who gave him a long baleful glance and then went back to sleep.

"Oh, that's Elvis." She smiled fondly at the backseat.

"Guard dog?" Juice asked, lifting up his eyebrows.

"You're kidding, right?" She laughed. "Not unless he snores any attackers to death."

She grinned, realising that her nerves had faded somewhat. They lapsed into silence and Juice took the opportunity to eye her covertly. Her pale skin was already bronzed to a smooth caramel from the sun, apart from the tan lines from her various beaded bracelets and the leather thong around her wrist. Her sunglasses emphasised the curve of her high cheekbones. He watched a bead of sweat trail down over her collarbone and disappear into her cleavage.

"You're kinda staring." She pointed out, her cheeks pink.

"Oh, sorry." He flashed her that smile again, the one that made her lips tweak back automatically.

He walked her back to the office, rapping on the door cheerfully and thrusting it open. Gemma was sitting at the desk, apparently arguing with a tall grey haired man who scowled at the intrusion.

"Sorry." Juice looked mortified as the guy stomped past them.

"The Mustang, right?" Gemma eyed Frankie and she nodded, suddenly unable to speak.

Gemma pulled up an invoice on the computer and tapped away filling it in. Frankie pulled out her ID and handed it to her, then her credit card. She could just give her the letter now, but Juice was propping up the doorframe besides her and Gemma was frowning. The timing wasn't right. She bottled it, took her receipt and left.

Chibs, who was entering the office as they were leaving, took a step back to let her pass and stared. They watched her head over to her car. She'd pushed her glasses into her hair and, as she was leaving, her jewel-bright eyes caught Half-Sack's as he held the car door open for her again.

"Gentlemanly around here, aren't you?"

Half-Sack gave her that dopey grin again and she smiled, sliding into her car out of the punishing heat. She glanced at the garage in her rear-view mirror, the combined shock of seeing Juice again and meeting Gemma flooding her body with adrenaline. She'd driven past the lot a few times but it had taken her nearly a month to work up the courage to actually drive through those gates. She'd thought once she'd done it once, been in there and seen what there was to see, she'd be okay. Like ripping off the wax strip the first time. She wasn't. She felt sick, like she'd had a reaction to the wax and ripping off the strip was only the beginning. She pulled over to the side of the road, afraid she was actually going to heave.

"I need a drink." She muttered to Elvis shakily, re-starting the engine.

Her phone buzzed and she glared at it. Freaking Teddy just would not take the hint. It was her own fault, thinking a fling would take some of the painful pressure off her chest. She always did have crap taste in men. She rejected the call. Well she'd blown her chance, now she had to figure out how to get another one.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N** : don't own don't sue

The lyrics at the beginning are from 'One More Night' by Maroon 5

Set after Season One, before Abel is kidnapped and Gemma is raped and Jax turns into a jerk and the whole club hates each other. Generally back when the show had fun and all the coolest characters were still alive. Because I can, it's called artistic license.

 **One More Night**

 **Chapter Two**

You and I go hard at each other like we're going to war  
You and I go rough, we keep throwing things and slamming the door  
You and I get so damn dysfunctional, we start keeping score  
You and I get sick, and I know that we can't do this no more  
But baby there you go again, there you go again, making me love you  
Yeah, I stopped using my head, using my head let it all go  
Got you stuck on my body, on my body like a tattoo  
And now I'm feeling stupid, feeling stupid crawling back to you  
So I cross my heart and I hope to die  
That I'll only stay with you one more night  
And I know I said it a million times  
But I'll only stay with you one more night  
Try to tell you no, but my body keeps on telling you yes  
Try to tell you stop, but your lipstick got me so out of breath  
I'll be waking up in the morning, probably hating myself  
And I'll be waking up feeling satisfied, but guilty as hell  
But baby there you go again, there you go again, making me love you  
Yeah I stopped using my head, using my head let it all go  
Got you stuck on my body, on my body like a tattoo  
And now I'm feeling stupid, feeling stupid crawling back to you  
So I cross my heart and I hope to die  
That I'll only stay with you one more night  
And I know I said it a million times  
But I'll only stay with you one more night  
Yeah baby give me one more night

Juice and Tig were arguing with the rather spry elderly lady whose car they were re-possessing when he saw her again. One minute he'd been working the controls to load up the car, the next he'd been clocked by a purse bigger than most suitcases and twice as heavy.

"Ow! Fuck!" He yelped indignantly, rubbing the lump at the back of his head.

Tig didn't help matters any by immediately bursting out laughing. The old lady swung for him again, a can of cat food flying out of the open zipper and bouncing off down the street.

"I'd say you were out-matched." An amused voice sounded from behind them.

Her vivid hair was tied back in a messy plait and she had on the mirrored aviator glasses that hid her distinctive eyes but it was definitely her. No one else in this town had legs like that. The old lady was still hollering all kinds of abuse at them as Tig finished loading up her car.

"Still here?" Juice asked, rather pointlessly given that she was standing right in front of them.

She exaggeratedly patted the stomach of her pretty yellow sundress, then her shoulders and her head, then she nodded.

"Guess so."

"What're you doing around here?" Tig asked a little suspiciously, eyeing the mainly residential area around them.

"Besides enjoying the show?" She lifted her eyebrows at Juice in amusement and he grinned embarrassedly. "Looking for the diner that sells the best shakes in California. So I'm told."

"Billy-Rae's. A few blocks that way." Tig interrupted. They stared at him in amazement. "What?" He shrugged.

"Thanks." Frankie smiled and he winked at her.

His phone rang and he moved away from them to answer.

"So when you're not fiddling with bikes, you're depriving old ladies of their beat up old junkers?" She commentated slyly, eyeing the old lady who had retreated to her porch to shake her walking stick at them from a distance.

"Old ladies who don't pay their bills." He corrected as Tig rejoined them, tucking his phone into the pocket of his jeans.

"I have to do something. I can take this back to the shop. You know, if you have something else to do. Whatever."

Tig looked from one to the other. Frankie rolled her eyes.

"Wow. Subtle." She teased. "Well come on if you want a shake, I'm buying."

As Juice ran to the cabin of the truck to grab his cut, Tig leaned around Frankie to yell after him; "Just watch yourself, princess. You've got a reputation to maintain."

Frankie laughed as Juice clambered down and threw a vague punch at Tig's arm. Tig clapped an arm around Frankie's shoulders.

"Hey be gentle with him. He's an innocent flower."

Juice went bright pink and glared at Tig. Frankie looked him over from top to toe, taking her time to examine how his t-shirt was sticking to him with sweat in the heat.

"I don't know how to be gentle." She deadpanned and Tig licked his lips wickedly.

"Let's go." Juice bustled Frankie away, glaring over his shoulder at Tig who made a vulgar gesture at him with both hands and most of his hips.

"I'm sure he's a sweetheart really." Frankie grinned.

Juice shook his head ruefully, glancing back over his shoulder.

"Nah. He's really not."

They walked in silence for a while, their feet falling into step and their arms brushing every now and then. Juice could feel his blood thrumming in his veins. The silence was dragging out and he searched for something to say that wouldn't sound ridiculous.

"How do you cope with it?" She asked suddenly. "The quiet." She clarified when he looked at her blankly.

"You from somewhere loud?"

He couldn't believe the stupid question had even come out of his mouth. She looked at him with that half-smile again and he felt his own lips curling in response.

"Not by this country's standards I guess. London." He whistled appreciatively. "Yeah. Good family, good schools, good money. And I still managed to make a mess of my life."

She turned away, peering at the houses with neat little lawns they were passing.

"Come on, you're too young to have messed up completely." He tried to laugh it off and she gave him a sad smile.

"Quit my job, dated a scumbag who cheated on me and broke my heart, got kicked out of my place because my best friend slash roommate wants to shack up with some guy she's barely known for three months. Pretty sure I'm hitting the trifecta. And that was before my parents died."

They walked down to Main Street and Frankie didn't miss the respectful wary looks people passed the cut as they walked. They lapsed into silence again as they reached the diner and found a booth near the back.

"So." Frankie started as they perused the menus. "I've had my little pity party, now tell me all about Juice."

"You don't want to hear about that." He shrugged, feeling her intent blue eyed gaze on him as he stared at the sticky laminated menu.

"Cute and modest. Well aren't you just adorable?" She kept her gaze on the list of shakes but she knew he was looking at her. "Can't hold your own against old ladies, though. You look like you can't hold your liquor either."

He scowled at her.

"She could throw one hell of a punch!" He protested sulkily. "And on straight liquor I'd have you on your back."

"Ahem." He gaped at the waitress eyeing him distastefully and Frankie hid her laughter behind her menu.

Juice was still sulking as the waitress took their orders and retreated.

"Don't be so petulant." Frankie teased. "She didn't know you were challenging me to a drinking contest instead of taking advantage of my fragile person."

"Drinking contest, huh?" Juice looked at her consideringly. "You'd have to hang around for that."

Frankie dropped her gaze, staring down at the scuffed counter. He watched her hand playing absently with her knife and fork, the purple polish on her nails flashing in the fluorescent overhead lights. She looked nervous all of a sudden and he frowned; he wasn't too good with women, had he said something to upset her? She looked up at him suddenly, her dark eyes skewering right through him until his body twitched. He couldn't quite get over how hot she was. Being a Son meant dealing with beautiful women on a daily basis but there was something different about her.

Every time she turned those wicked eyes on him he flashed right back to that night at The Bad Penny. He didn't know if she recognised him or not, if she even remembered what had happened. She kept giving him these looks that made him sort of think she knew exactly who he was and how often he'd thought about her since that night. If she did remember, she wasn't letting on. And if she didn't remember, he sure as hell wasn't embarrassing himself by bringing it up.

"Earth to Juice." She was squinting at him in amusement. "You spaced out."

Juice shrugged sheepishly, spared from replying as the waitress returned with their food. Frankie thanked her sweetly as the waitress practically threw the plate at Juice. Frankie swirled her straw around in her milkshake before taking an experimental sip. She seemed to swirl the milkshake around her mouth thoughtfully, her pretty lips pursed. After a few seconds, she swallowed and Juice was distinctly aware that he was watching the motions of her throat without being able to tear his eyes away.

"Good?" He asked, hoping to distract her from his blatant staring.

"Very." She nodded, gulping it down greedily.

Juice wolfed his burger, realising how hungry he was as he watched her methodically dip her fries in a small pile of salt and then a puddle of ketchup before consuming them. She finished most of her fries before tackling her burger. She carefully swirled ketchup onto the bun before taking a surprisingly huge bite. He was staring again. He blinked and looked away, out of the window towards Main Street.

"You're quiet." Frankie swiped at her mouth with her hand as she chewed.

"Sorry." Juice grinned brightly but she continued to study him in silence as he fiddled with his unused knife and fork.

"You don't have to be so nervous." Frankie lifted her eyebrows, her mouth twitching into a smile. "I won't bite."

Juice could feel the fading love bite she'd left on his chest tingling and, unless he was very much mistaken, her cheeks had turned pink too. She avoided his eye and continued to demolish her burger.

* * *

"Well, Juice." She chewed her lip to prevent herself from laughing and Juice found himself grinning. "Thanks for lunch."

Juice toed the ground with his boot, his hands thrust into the pockets of his jeans as he looked anywhere but at her. He was terrible with women, and the constant image of him thrusting into her writhing body beneath him that kept flashing across his brain, was not helping any. He could feel his blood heating up just thinking about her beneath him. She'd cocked her head to the side and was watching him with an inscrutable look on her face. His body was thrumming with heat, his fingers were itching to touch her. A sharp knife of desire was arrowing its way through his body.

The sound of a bike roaring shattered the moment and they both turned towards the road. Two bikes pulled up beside them and Frankie blinked at them. The one she thought was Jax leaned back on his bike and surveyed her from head to toe, a bone melting smirk curling his lips. Frankie looked away. The second biker had lifted his glasses from his nose and was peering at the two of them in something like amusement, the scars on his cheeks only emphasising his wolfish grin.

"Let's go, boy." The Scottish burr made her blink and he winked at her as Juice shuffled awkwardly besides her.

Juice's cheeks were flaming as he waited for Jax and Chibs to leave. Obviously they didn't. They leaned back on their bikes and watched in amusement as Juice tried to stammer out a goodbye to Frankie. She took pity on him, ignoring the giggling bikers and brushing her lips against his cheek.

"Thanks for lunch. See you around."

She smiled again, moving past him and leaving a tantalizing trail of scent behind her. Juice watched her walking away, her hair swinging slightly with the movement of her hips.

"Come on, Juicy. Let's go." Chibs called, his glasses flashing in the sunlight as he surveyed him in amusement.

Juice took a step towards his bike, parked up behind Chibs, then he paused. She was almost at the end of the street, a few seconds and she'd disappear around the corner. He had no idea what had come over him but he'd called out to her before he even knew his mouth had opened. He tried to ignore Chibs and Jax catcalling behind him as he jogged down the street after her. She'd stopped and turned to look back but she didn't move as she waited for him to reach her. Juice came to a halt a little too close to her but she didn't move away. Now that he'd caught up he had no idea what he was doing.

"I… er—" He scratched the back of his head, peering down at her green Converse. "You wanna go out?" He mumbled, squinting up at her. "With me, I mean." He added in a rush. "Together."

She smiled at him in amusement, he was so cute. She seemed to be mulling it over, thinking very hard about his offer. For a long horrifying moment, he thought she was going to say no and he was going to have to spend the rest of his life hearing from the guys about the time the hot redhead shot him down.

"Okay." She said slowly, sounding as if she was still undecided. "Let's go out." She dug in her purse and pulled out a black pen. "Here." She took his hand and pulled it towards him, scrawling her number along his forearm.

Juice could not keep the grin from his face as he jogged back towards the guys still jeering at him.

* * *

"You call that broad yet?"

Juice jerked his head up, pink lighting up his cheekbones. Jax was leaning one foot on the seat of the picnic bench Juice had been eating his lunch on. His sandwich lay forgotten, ruined by the sun as he stared at his phone intently. It had been three days since he'd had lunch with Frankie and he had yet to call her and ask her out again. Every time he dialled her number, he chickened out before she could answer. He had no idea what he was doing.

"Jesus, Juice." Jax chortled, pushing his hair out of his face. "That girl was fine." He handed Juice the end of his cigarette. "Look man, she wouldn't have given you her number if she wasn't up for it."

Jax laughed and shook his head, walking away from Juice as Gemma emerged from the office and beckoned him over. Juice stared at the number on his phone screen. Jax had a point. He rubbed his hands over his head, feeling like a complete fucking idiot. He jumped so hard when the phone vibrated that he nearly knocked it off the table. A text message. He clicked to open it.

 _You gonna ring long enough for me to answer? F x_

Juice jerked his head up, staring around the lot suspiciously. No one was paying him the slightest bit of attention. He scratched at his earlobe as he texted back.

 _im working on it_

 _Grow a pair biker boy! x_

Juice snorted, then hurriedly looked around again. Opie and Tig were standing nearby but that was it. He stared at the words on the screen.

 _If I call will u answer?_

Juice stared at the screen, waiting for a reply. A minute turned into two, turned into three. Shit. The phone vibrated loudly against the scratched wooden picnic table and he fumbled to grab it.

"Hello?"

He could hear her laughter down the phone, bright and pretty.

"Mount up biker boy, we're going bowling tonight."

Juice managed to stammer out an affirmation before she laughed again and hung up the phone.

"What's with the grin?" Bobby asked as he passed by, a tyre slung over his shoulder.

"Nothing." Juice said quickly, shoving his phone into his pocket.

"Yeah." Bobby said slowly, disbelief written all over his face but he merely lifted his eyebrows and carried on his way.


End file.
